Would Justin Welby be embarrassed to own shares in my bank?

The financial sector as a whole isn't the most salubrious industry to be in.

Last month, I took out a loan that had an effective APR of 243,333 per cent. But I didn't go to a payday lender to do it. Although the worst of them do offer loans with interest rates in the hundred thousands, a more typical cost of a payday loan is something like Wonga, which cites a representative APR of 5,853 per cent on its website.

No, instead, I took out an authorised overdraft at my bank. I didn't mean to, you understand; a Kickstarter project I'd backed finished, and charged me about £15. The email was caught by a spam filter, and I'd forgotten it was coming, so my mental accounting was thrown out of whack. By the time I found out, I'd been overdrawn by 17p for two days. For that privilege, my bank charged me the princely sum of £2.

Just for comparison, Wonga themselves, the arch-villain of the day, would have charged me a third of a penny, if they did loans that small, though their handling fee would have been much larger.

In my defence, I'm not an entirely ignorant consumer. The bank account I have does have punitively high interest rates if you go slightly overdrawn, but at the same time, it pays me money for being in credit (something you won't find all that frequently these days). When I'm not an idiot, the two balance out to leave me slightly better off.

But it does leave me wondering at how we pick which companies are evil. Justin Welby, the archbishop of Canterbury, today says he is "embarrassed" to discover that the Church has a financial stake in Wonga. On a scale of one to ten, his embarrassment ranks "about eight", apparently. But where would an investment in my bank rank? Or is a bank a respectable institution, above criticism, even when the numbers involved tell a different story?

Part of the answer is that the numbers involved don't, in fact, tell the whole story. Quoting the interest rate for my bank is misleading: a better way of phrasing it is to say "I am charged £1 for every day I have an authorised overdraft between £0 and £500". The only reason why my effective APR was so high is because the amount I "borrowed" was so low. But for payday lenders, there's also other ways to phrase it which are less misleading. Wonga, for instance, charges interest of one per cent for every day the loan is taken out, plus a flat handling fee.

But there's also a question of business practices. It's fair to say that advising students to take out a payday loan instead of a student loan, for instance, is not particularly ethical. But then, neither is systematically selling insurance to people who don't need it and will never be able to claim on it, or lying about how much lending costs you in order to boost your profits. It's the financial sector as a whole which could do with a healthy dose of ethics, it seems.

A sign outside a 'Speedy Cash' cash loans shop on Brixton High Street. Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

Photo: Getty Images/Richard Stonehouse
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Here's how Jeremy Corbyn can win back the Midlands

The Midlands is where elections are decided - and where Jeremy Corbyn can win. 

The Midlands: this “formless” place is where much of Labour’s fate lies. The party witnessed some of its most disappointing 2015 results here. In those early, depressing hours of 8 May, Nuneaton was the result that rang the death knell of Labour’s election chances. Burton, Cannock Chase, Halesowen & Rowley Regis, Redditch and Telford weren’t far behind. To win here Labour need to build a grassroots movement that engages swing voters.

Luckily, this is also a place with which Labour’s new leader has a natural affinity. The bellwether seat of Nuneaton is where Jeremy Corbyn chose to hold his last regional rally of the leadership contest; just a couple of counties over you’ll find the home Corbyn moved to in Shropshire when he was seven. He cut his political teeth round the corner in marginal constituency The Wrekin; it was in this key seat he did his first stint of campaigning. Flanked by a deputy leader, Tom Watson, who represents Labour stronghold West Bromwich East, Corbyn has his eye on the Midlands.

As MP for Islington North since 1983, Labour’s leader has earned London-centric credentials that have long since overshadowed his upbringing. But Corbynism isn’t a phenomenon confined to the capital. The enthusiasm that spilled out of Corbyn’s summer leadership rallies across the country has continued into the autumn months; Labour’s membership is now over 370,000. It’s fast catching up with 1997 figures, which are the highest in the party’s recent history.

London is the biggest beneficiary of this new movement - with 20 per cent of Labour’s members and 19 per cent of new members who signed up the week before conference coming from the capital. But Corbynism is flourishing elsewhere. 11 per cent of all Labour party members now reside in the southeast. In that same pre-conference week 14 per cent of new members came from this mostly Tory blue area of the country. And since last year, membership in the southwest increased by 124 per cent. Not all, but a good deal of this, is down to Corbyn’s brand of anti-austerity politics.

A dramatic rise in membership, with a decent regional spread, is nothing to be sneered at; people are what you need to create an election-winning grassroots movement. But, as May proved, having more members than your opposition doesn’t guarantee victory. Corbyn has spoken to many who’d lost faith in the political system but more people need to be won over to his cause.  

This is clear in the Midlands, where the party’s challenges are big. Labour’s membership is swelling here too, but to a lesser degree than elsewhere. 32 per cent of party members now and 13 per cent of those who joined up in seven days preceding conference hail from this part of the country.

But not all potential Labour voters will become card-carrying members. Corbyn needs to speak to swing voters. These people have no party colours and over the summer they had mixed views on Corbynism. In Nuneaton, Newsnight found a former Labour turned Ukip voter who thought Corbyn would take Labour “backwards” and put the economy at risk. But a fellow Ukip voter said he saw Corbyn as “fresh blood”.

These are enduring splits countrywide. Voters in key London marginal Croydon Central gave a mixed verdict on Corbyn’s conference speech. They thought he was genuine but were worried about his economic credibility. While they have significant doubts, swing voters are still figuring out who Labour’s new leader is.

This is where the grassroots movement comes into play. Part of the challenge is to get out there and explain to these people exactly who the party is, what it’s going to offer them and how it’s going to empower them to make change. 

Labour have nascent plans to make this reality in the Midlands. Tom Watson advocated bringing back to life this former industrial heartland by making it a base for manufacturing once again – hopefully based on modern skills and technologies.  He’s also said the leadership team will make regular regional visits to key seats. Watson’s words chime with plans floated by shadow minister Jon Trickett: to engage people with citizens’ assemblies where they have a say over Labour politics.

But meetings alone don’t make grassroots movements. Alongside the economy, regional identity is a decisive issue in this – and other – area(s) of the country. With the influx in money brought in by new members, Labour should harness peoples’ desire for belonging, get into communities and fill the gaps the Government are leaving empty. While they’re doing this, they could spread the word of a proper plan for devolution, harking back to the days of municipal socialism, so people know they’ll have power over their own communities under Labour.

This has to start now, and there’s no reason why the Midlands can’t act as a model. Labour can engage with swing voters by getting down to a community level and start showing – and not just saying –  how the party can make a difference. 

Maya Goodfellow is a freelance journalist.